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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27009562">Stolen Moments</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme/pseuds/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme'>takethisnight_wrapitaroundme</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Angst, Bets &amp; Wagers, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Fake Marriage, First Kiss, Interracial Relationship, Secret Relationship, Undercover Missions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:08:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27009562</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme/pseuds/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>5+1. Five times Nile &amp; Booker kissed in secret, and one time they (accidentally) kissed in public.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>343</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Book of Nile Collection!</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stolen Moments</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you know me, you know that my absolute favorite trope is secret relationships. So of course I had to write one for Nile &amp; Book. Andy is still immortal in this because I refuse to separate the wives. Please enjoy! :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <b>1</b>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Nile is leaning against the kitchen counter, scraping the icing off the remains of her birthday cake with her index finger, when she looks up to see Booker stepping through the doorway. Nicky and Joe went to bed hours ago and, from Booker’s sudden appearance, Nile assumes Andy and Quynh just called it quits too. Nile licks the icing off her finger and straightens up, catching his eye with a conspiratorial smile.</p><p>“And then there were two. Survival of the fittest, huh?”</p><p>He laughs once, softly, and makes his way over to her on surprisingly steady legs, given the fact that it’s nearly midnight and they’ve all been drinking since brunch. When he’s close enough, he clinks his beer bottle against hers, where it rests on the counter. She reaches for it and they each take a pull, his shoulder brushing against hers as he leans back against the counter. She doesn’t move away, and neither does he. The two of them have been finding themselves alone like this, with everyone else gone, over and over again throughout the decades since he came back. It is at once comforting and entirely nerve-wracking.</p><p>“So.” Booker tips his chin at the ravaged cake. “How’s it feel to be two hundred?”</p><p>“To be honest? It feels the same as ever,” Nile admits.</p><p>When he lowers his beer back to his side, Nile tries not to focus on the fact that his bare forearm is now pressed up against hers. At some point in the evening, he rolled his sleeves up past his elbows, and as they lean against the counter and each other, Nile is very aware of the fact that this is the most skin-to-skin contact the two of them have ever had.</p><p>She has to clear her throat to break the silence.</p><p>“Why do you ask?” she wonders, just for something to say. “Did two hundred feel different to you?”</p><p>“Nah.” He shakes his head, and takes another swallow of his beer, causing his arm to brush against hers again. The hairs on his forearm are soft, so blonde as to be invisible. She wishes she could say this was the first time she’s ever noticed that. “I always expect the milestones to… I don’t know. Have some greater meaning. Guess it’s just a holdover from being mortal. I keep expecting time to matter.”</p><p>“Sometimes it does,” Nile hears herself say. “Time can matter, even for us.”</p><p>He looks over at her, his face open in a way she’s still struck by at times, despite how long he’s been back with them. He has changed so much since returning from his exile a century ago, but she thinks the change in attitude is the most important. He struggles with it, she knows. But he reaches out. And he tries. And that makes all the difference in the world.</p><p>“<em>How,</em> do you think?” His voice is quiet, curious. His eyes watch her closely, and she knows he is trying to read her face for answers. “How do we make all this time matter?”</p><p>He isn’t asking about the missions. He isn’t asking about the databases of lives saved, and history altered for the better. He isn’t thinking of Copley’s old office, filled with collages and string, where this new phase of their work started. She doesn’t know <em> what </em>he’s thinking of exactly, but she does know what she’s thinking of.</p><p><em> What makes time matter is the people you choose to spend it with.</em> It's something her mother used to say; it was how she justified all those years when her father was away: the time they were together was worth it. It’s how Nile justified leaving herself, when she joined up. It is, she has come to realize, how she views moments like this, when she’s alone with Booker. Quality over quantity, always. Because even seconds together mean something if they’re spent with the right person.</p><p>“How do we make all this time matter?” she repeats, not taking her eyes off him. “Well, I think we make it matter like this.”</p><p>And then, before she can think too hard, she leans all the way over and pushes herself up onto her toes to meet his mouth with her own. She hears his sharp intake of breath as she crowds into his space, and she feels a flash of satisfaction at catching him off-guard. Such a thing isn’t easy to do. But even better than that is the way he reacts—there is hardly a pause between the moment her lips touch his and the moment his hand moves to cup her hip. His touch is immediate and steadfast, as if he’s been playing this out in his head for years.</p><p>Perhaps he has. The thought alone makes her dizzy.</p><p>Their first kiss is gentle and chaste and short, and when she pulls away—just for a second before leaning back in—she can feel him smiling beneath her lips, as if she is creating meaning here for him too, and not merely for herself.</p><p>
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</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <b>2</b>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>There is something about him that changes the air in a room whenever he walks into it. She swears it is physical—the temperature rising, the oxygen disappearing—and not simply in her mind. It happens anywhere—a hotel room, a museum gallery, even the private armory they are standing in now. He alters everything, and somehow manages to command her attention without so much as a word. (And from the things he’s told her, whispered late at night away from the others, she knows she holds this same mysterious power over him.)</p><p>She listens to the door shut, the electronic lock re-arming itself, and as his footsteps come closer, she forces herself to focus on the rifle she’s stripping. <em> Focus, focus, focus.</em> Because if she doesn’t, she’ll do something stupid like turn around and kiss him, simply because they are alone, and that is a dangerous thing to do in a place like this, with the team so close by.</p><p>But they have been doing a lot of dangerous things lately, ever since her two hundredth birthday. It is only due to dumb luck that they haven’t been caught by the others.</p><p>He doesn’t speak as he comes near, and neither does she. To do so would ruin the illusion that these situations they keep finding themselves in over the last few years are spontaneous, that they <em> just happen,</em> without any planning or input or force of will from either of them. And that illusion is everything—it keeps them sane during the days they’re apart, and fuels them through the long nights together. If everything they do together is an accident, then there’s no reason to talk about it, and even less of a reason to tell anyone.</p><p>She’s nearly finished with the rifle when she feels him step too close and invade her space. She shuts her eyes, tightening her fingers instinctively as she feels his chest come up against her back. She doesn’t want to drop anything, or damage any hardware, lest she incur Andy’s wrath. That woman is very particular about every single piece of weaponry within the seemingly endless stockpiles she keeps around the world for the team’s use.</p><p>Knowing this, Booker reaches around Nile, carefully easing the parts out of her fingers and setting them down on the counter. Still, he hasn’t said a word. But she can feel his breath by her ear, and now his hands on her waist, and she knows from experience that they don’t need any words. All he needs to do is be here, and all she needs to do is turn and meet him.</p><p>He’s been growing out his beard more fully these last few months, and she loves the rough feel of it against her cheeks and chin as he kisses her, hard and deep. His tongue is heavy and hot when it pushes inside her mouth and she moans at the feel, twisting in his arms and pulling him closer by the collar until the two of them stumble back, falling against the nearest shelf. She can hear the items on it rattling behind her, a few even falling to the floor, but she can’t find it in herself to care anymore, not when his mouth is on her like this.</p><p>She knows they should not be kissing in a room full of weapons. They should not be alone in a room together, period, because anyone could walk in. They have only the electronic keypad on the door saving them from being found out here, and somehow that makes it all the more exciting. They would not be the people they are without that constant craving for the thrill danger brings.</p><p>As he slips his hands beneath her shirt, rising to cup her ribcage, she finds herself wondering if they have time to finish things quickly before the team heads out. When he twists his tongue around hers <em> just like that,</em> she decides the time for thinking is over. She grabs his ass and hauls him closer, grinning when he laughs in surprise, and eagerly presses himself against her, so forcefully that when the shelving shakes this time, she can hear boxes of bullets falling and scattering across the floor.</p><p>They get only a moment’s warning from the keypad unlocking, but it’s enough. By the time Andy steps inside the armory, they’ve separated, and Booker is already crouched down, rushing to pick up the bullets.</p><p>“What the hell is this?” Andy demands, glaring at the mess with her hands full of guns. “Book—”</p><p>“It’s not his fault,” Nile interrupts, still breathless from the kiss, trying not to flinch when Andy’s accusing gaze shifts immediately to her without lessening in intensity. “It was my fault. I was cleaning my rifle and when I was reaching for supplies, I wasn’t paying attention and accidentally knocked over one of the stacks of ammo. There was a domino effect and, well… Sorry,” she adds lamely, because it feels like Andy’s waiting for it.</p><p>The older woman says nothing, simply stores away the guns she brought in, and begins to pack up others. “No mistakes like that while we’re on mission, got it?”</p><p>“Got it,” Nile replies, keeping her voice firm and devoid of emotion, just like she used to with her CO. It’s hard to keep a straight face, though, when Booker is smirking openly at her from the floor.</p><p>Andy stares at Nile a moment longer, lips pursed. “You’re the one with modern military training, Freeman,” she mutters finally. “I expect better from you.” </p><p>Nile bites her tongue so she won’t argue. She knows more than most that there’s no way to win a fight with a mission commander. And she can’t help but think, as she bends down to help Booker clean up the mess they made, that Andy’s expectations for her extend far past mere mission performance. </p><p>
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</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <b>3</b>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>It is well past ten in the evening when they leave the casino and step out into the cool summer evening hand in hand. The sky is dark above them, but the streets of Monte Carlo are bright as the city starts to rise around them again, gearing up for the evening’s less respectable pursuits. As they pass out of range of the hotel’s security cameras, Nile can picture Nicky in her mind, taking up his post in a nearby highrise and adjusting the scope of his rifle in order to track them. It is for their safety, she knows. But she can’t help feeling that she’s being hunted.</p><p>Booker’s hand, warm around hers, does something to dispel the worry even as his every action—smiling at her, tugging her close as they pass through crowds, whispering in her ear—only adds to her paranoia. It has been like this all week, ever since they checked in to the casino’s hotel and began their mission-critical farce of a happy marriage. This mission should feel like vacation—a rare opportunity for the two of them to show affection in public without worrying who sees—but instead it feels more like work than ever. Nile can feel herself slipping and sliding into the role as if it were real, and every time she catches herself, she wonders what the others see. What they are saying.</p><p>Booker has taken to this mission easier than anything she’s ever seen before, and Nile spends as much time as possible reminding herself that it’s simply because he is <em> good </em>at this sort of thing, and not anything to do with her or them. He’d perform the role of enamored husband just as flawlessly with Andy at his side, or Joe, or Nicky, or Quynh. He, after all, knows what it is to be someone’s spouse. </p><p>But of course there is more to it than just that. He tells her so, once they are away from security cameras and out of the range of Nicky’s rifle; once they are behind the locked doors of their suite with the curtains drawn. He holds her close in that enormous king bed and he whispers how perfect she is. How he’s felt for centuries that he’s missing something, that he’s been waiting for something, and maybe, <em> maybe </em>it’s—</p><p>It is infatuation, she knows. Plain and simple, nothing more.</p><p>But that doesn’t make it any less intoxicating. Or any less dangerous.</p><p>And then there is the small matter of the ring he wears—the one he has not taken off once, not even for a moment, since he first put it on at the start of the mission. Nile, who takes her diamond-encrusted rings off any chance she gets, tries very hard not to read too much into this. She also tries very hard not to think about how nice the metal of that ring feels, sliding against her skin whenever he touches her. There are more important things to focus on, though at times she has trouble remembering exactly what.</p><p>They are nearly halfway to the harbor and passing through a copse of trees when he stops suddenly, and pulls her tightly to his chest. She starts in surprise, her free hand gripping his forearm. He just smiles down at her, brushing his knuckles against her cheek.</p><p>“Book,” she whispers in warning, eyes darting away.</p><p>“No one can see us here,” he assures her. “I checked Nicky’s perch last week.”</p><p>She shuts her eyes in annoyance as much as relief, but is unable to resist smiling as she leans into him. </p><p>“Of course you did.”</p><p>While she was focused on the fact that they would be able to spend every night in the same bed throughout this mission, he was off scouting spots they could steal away to without having to be behind closed doors. It is the tiny gestures like this that never fail to remind her that he truly does come from another time.</p><p>She opens her eyes, shifting her forehead against his. “What’s he going to think?” she wonders. "Watching us disappear into the trees like this?”</p><p>“Maybe he’ll think we have gotten ourselves lost. He has always said I should be more adept at celestial navigation.”</p><p>Nile snorts softly, ducking her head down.</p><p>She can feel his hand fall from her cheek, and then reappear at her waist. His legs start to shift against hers, swaying side to side, but it isn’t until he lifts up her other hand that she realizes what’s happening. He is humming something beneath his breath, a piece of music either very old or very familiar to him—perhaps both—and she feels a rush of affection so strong it makes her eyes burn. She looks up at him smiling down at her and she wonders if it’s possible to die simply from the romance of it all.</p><p>For a few seconds, they move in silence, revolving on the spot. When she ducks her head into the side of his neck, she can feel him turn to press a kiss to her hair. She wants to let the moment last, but she knows it cannot. Nothing can last between them, and that’s the beginning and end of every problem.</p><p>“Hey, Book?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“You think the others suspect anything? About us?”</p><p>“You mean because we’re pulling off this fake marriage so convincingly?” She doesn’t need to lift her head to know he’s smirking.</p><p>“I’m serious. I…” She forces herself to pull back and look him in the eye, knowing he deserves that and more. “Book, I don’t want them to know about us, okay?”</p><p>“Ah.” He smiles in that forced, sad way of his that she thought they were long past. “I was wondering when we would get to this.” She starts to explain, but he quiets her. “It is all right, Nile. You can come out and say you are embarrassed by me. I will not crumple at the truth.”</p><p>“What?” She jerks back in surprise. “No. No, I’m not embarrassed <em>of </em>you; I’m scared of being embarrassed <em>by</em> you, if this ends. Of you… becoming bored of me and wanting something else. And they’ll all know—”</p><p>“You think <em> I </em> will become bored of <em> you?" </em> He laughs aloud. “Are you mad?”</p><p>
  <em>"Sébastien."</em>
</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I don’t want to face an eternity of us ruining this and having them <em> know </em> we ruined it, forever. I don’t want that pity, that superiority, that… that extra layer of humiliation whenever they look at me. From you, fine. I can take it from you. But not from them.”</p><p>“So we’re just going to brush by the fact that you already assume this is going to end and end badly, aren’t we?”</p><p>She sighs. “Book, please. Just be practical with me for a minute.”</p><p>“Okay, okay, so we’ll keep things to ourselves. We can do that, right? We’ve been doing it for years.”</p><p>“I know, I just…” She sighs, looking away. She hates having to act like the disciplinarian with him.</p><p>“You think I’m being risky,” he concludes. “Doing things like this. And you would prefer if I kept the romance hidden behind closed doors.”</p><p>Nile bites her lip. She wishes she could say no. She wishes she could fully enjoy moments like this, but the fear is always there, in the back of her mind. He knows her well enough not to push the point.</p><p>“Well, then.” He takes a half-step away, and tugs at her hand. “Come on. Let’s go stand where Nicky can see us so we don’t raise any further suspicions.”</p><p>They finish the rest of the walk in silence, reaching the harbor just as a crowd of college-age young men are stumbling by, singing and shouting at the tops of their lungs. Nile ignores the ones that call out to her, whistling and offering a better way to fill her evening hours, but she doesn’t miss how Booker’s hand tightens around hers. She has to turn her head to the side so he won’t see her laugh.</p><p>“Were you ever like that as a kid?” she wonders, after the crowd has moved on. “Way back when?”</p><p>“Hm...” He rubs beneath his nose, something she’s noticed he likes to do when stalling for time. “Would’ve been the late eighteenth century, not sure if I can remember that far back…”</p><p>She laughs at the blatant obfuscation, but allows it. They end up at the far end of the marina, leaning against the railing, with their backs to any onlookers. They spend a long while staring out at the sea, just watching the boats come and go through the darkness. When the breeze picks up, and he offers his jacket, she takes it with a grateful smile. She knows if they were on their own, and not being watched by the others, he’d take the opportunity to hold her close to help warm her up. She tries to appreciate the restraint even as she wishes it weren’t necessary.</p><p>“So,” he says finally. “How long do you think it will take before we know if this is forever?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” Nile chews on her lip, turning the question over in her head as she has so many times before. She’s asked herself this a thousand times, but has yet to find an answer. “I think we should just wait and see. Take it a day at a time. Or, or a year at a time,” she adds quickly, not liking the inherent promise <em> day </em>offers. “Or—”</p><p>“A century at a time?” he offers dryly.</p><p>She glances his way nervously, barely able to read his face in profile. “Do you hate me?” she whispers.</p><p>“Of course not. I could never hate you.” He meets her anxious gaze with a small smile. “And you know me, Nile. I’ve got plenty of time.”</p><p>She clutches the railing, pressing her body against it so she won’t reach for him. If this were a romantic drama, she thinks, this would be the moment. The grand gesture moment. Where she kisses him in plain view, in front of everyone, and she doesn’t care who sees or what they think.</p><p>But she can’t not care. She’s always going to care.</p><p>They stay there for a few minutes longer, until he suggests they start making their way back, and she nods. He doesn’t reach for her hand like usual, and so she buries hers in the pockets of his jacket instead. He doesn’t speak during the walk back, and though a thousand different icebreakers run through her mind, none of them make it past her lips.</p><p>It isn’t until they’re stuck at a crosswalk, waiting for the semi in front of them to make a tight right, that she realizes they have an opportunity here. She glances up to where she knows Nicky is set up, bolstered when she realizes she can’t see the window with the truck in the way. Still, she does the math quickly in her head, just to check. When she’s sure, she pushes herself up onto her toes and leans over just long enough to press her lips to his. She pulls away just before the truck completes the turn and exposes them to Nicky’s scope once more.</p><p>She heads across the street, pleased with herself when he takes an extra second to catch up.</p><p>“Now who’s being risky, hm?” he teases, leaning close so he can’t have his lips read.</p><p>“Just wanted to say thank you,” she whispers back. “For understanding.”</p><p>“Oh, feel free to thank me anytime.”</p><p>
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  <p>
    <b>4</b>
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</blockquote><p>Nile watches from bed one winter morning as Sébastien gets up and begins prepping for a mission without her. It isn’t often they go on missions without the full team, but every once in a while, a job requires only two or three of them, and the rest are given time off. Usually Nile appreciates some time on her own, but the last thing she wants right now is to be separated from him. Especially when she knows he’s walking into a war zone without her. Immortality or not, it isn’t a good thing to think about.</p><p>She can tell from the way he studiously avoids looking at her as he gets dressed that he feels the same way. She says nothing, because there’s no reason to have the argument again. They cannot ask Andy to change a mission lineup at the last minute. And they cannot ask her to pair them together going forward unless they want to be bombarded by questions they aren’t ready for.</p><p>When this all started with a kiss in a kitchen nearly a century ago, they decided they would keep what they were to themselves until they were certain of it. Until they knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that what they had together was no less than what the others had. Some years, she thinks they’re there. She thinks they’ve made it, that they’re built to last for however many centuries are ahead of them. And other years, something goes wrong, and she’s terrified that they’re not. And every time that fear hits her, she’s grateful no one else knows. She could not stand the pity, the humiliation, and the acrimony that she knows will follow her for the rest of eternity if this ends badly and publicly. She has seen firsthand how such feelings can withstand the test of time. So it is best for everyone involved, she knows, if they keep themselves to themselves.</p><p>He is ready to go inside of an hour, and though they both know Andy would much prefer to see him early rather than simply on time, he chooses to spend his spare minutes here, with Nile. He sits down on her side of his bed, smiling when she trades her pillow for his lap, resting the back of her head against his thigh. Her hair, freed from its braids, is a soft halo around her head as she looks up at him. She takes his left hand, and presses it to her lips.</p><p>“You come back, okay?” she whispers against his knuckles.</p><p>“Always do.”</p><p>She stares up at him with those wide, dark eyes of hers, and he wishes he had something more comforting to say. He settles for bending down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. He starts to straighten up, only to be stopped when her hand slides behind the back of his neck and holds him close. He looks into her eyes and he knows what she’s waiting for.</p><p>They have said it before. When they were just friends, and when they were drunk, and when they were stumbling on the way to something more. They have said it in so many different circumstances, in so many different ways, and over so many different years, that surely three words should not hold this much power still.</p><p>And yet they do. He can feel the fear of them one day being unreturned, roiling in his stomach. He can feel the truth of them, untamable, burning in his chest. He lets them out.</p><p>“I love you, Nie. More than I know how to say, I love you.”</p><p>She squeezes his hand against her lips, so tight it hurts, but he doesn’t flinch. “I love you too.” He feels as much as hears the words, her breath warm against his skin. “Please be safe.”</p><p>He’s all the way at the door, pack on, before he realizes they never kissed goodbye. When he turns, she’s there waiting, arms at her sides. He looks at her, standing there in his home, surrounded by his things, and he can’t help but think that she fits perfectly. Like she was meant to be there. Almost like she’s always been there, just waiting for him to catch up.</p><p>The kiss is soft and quick, a momentary peace. And then he’s gone.</p><p>
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  <p>
    <b>5</b>
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</blockquote><p>It is well after midnight and somehow she is in his hotel room again. Sébastien would like to say he doesn’t know how this happened, <em> again,</em> but he knows. They always find themselves like this, crawling back to each other after particularly gruesome deaths, and he would hate himself for it if he didn’t live for it too.</p><p>In the thirty years since they ended things—really, truly ended things—missions are still the only time they ever see each other. Whenever they have time off, they spend it separately, studiously avoiding the locales they know the other prefers so as not to tempt fate. During missions, they are civil and focused—much the same as before, though the smiles and easy chatter are a bit harder to fake at first. But they manage it. They’ve always been good at pretending. As far as he can tell, the team doesn’t know. There are none of the pitying looks Nile was so worried about, nor any serious talks from Andy.</p><p>A decade passes this way before Sébastien has to admit that Nile’s insistence on secrecy really did pay off—not that the thought is any comfort. He still gets teasing from Joe about her sometimes, and every once in a while, tired of the grin-and-bear-it routine, Sébastien thinks of pulling him aside and telling the truth. Just to see his face when he realizes what went on under his nose. Just to have a shoulder to lean on when he has to explain why it’s over. But he made Nile a promise, ages and ages ago, and he isn’t in the habit of breaking promises anymore. So he lets the years drag on, and he keeps the truth to himself. </p><p>The first time it happens, they’re fleeing a botched mission in Venezuela. With the team scattered in all different directions, the two of them end up in a little town just over the border in Colombia. They manage to find a motel sometime after nightfall, paying for the room with what cash they have left. The idea is that one of them will keep watch while the other sleeps, trading off until dawn. It doesn’t quite work out that way. </p><p>In the decades since, they’ve found some semblance of the self-restraint they lost that night. They still go years, sometimes, without falling back into old habits. But the missions have become more dangerous than ever as of late—or perhaps they’ve each become more reckless—and it’s getting harder and harder to remember the line, let alone respect it. And then there are some nights, like tonight, where it doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time. Fear is what drives them together, and the fear is unquenchable.</p><p>“Please tell me you’re okay.”</p><p>Her voice cracks halfway through the plea and he has to shut his eyes so he won’t see her cry.</p><p>“Please, Sébas, I just need you to say it. You were gone for so long, I was terrified you weren’t coming back. I kept thinking—”</p><p>“I came back.” He doesn’t know how he finds the words, but he does. One and then another, they drag themselves out from the depths of him. “I’m here. Same as ever.”</p><p>It isn’t an answer, and they both know it.</p><p>He stands, watching, waiting, wondering what she will do. Sometimes she just leaves. Gives up on him like she did thirty years ago. Other times—</p><p>Other times she steps towards him, as she’s doing now, and reaches for the buttons on his shirt. He doesn’t protest. They’ve done this too many times for those sorts of lies to be anything but wasted air. She moves through them quickly, her hands nimble even under pressure.</p><p>Despite the fact that he was riddled with bullets just five hours ago, his skin is as unblemished as ever when she touches it. She places a shaking hand on his breastbone, pressing hard enough that he has to shift his weight to stay standing. The other moves over his heart, and she holds it there as she counts the beats. One, two, three, four, five… She rests her forehead against his chest, closing her eyes when she feels his chin against the crown of her head, and his arms wrap around her back.</p><p>“I told you,” he whispers into her hair. “Same as ever.”</p><p>There are no wounds to kiss, no bruised patches to navigate, no scars to trace. But she does her best anyway, pressing her lips to his skin again and again and again, and he revels in her touch and the new kind of healing it offers.</p><p>But then she lifts her head, and takes his face in her hands, and he manages, finally, to deny her. He turns his head to the side, avoiding her lips, and struggling to ignore the way his heart breaks at the wounded little <em> Hey </em>she lets out in surprise. She drags her nails down his cheeks, through his beard, but he doesn’t give in to the pain. It hurts now, but he knows it will hurt so much more after she leaves. And he doesn’t know how many more times he can do this.</p><p>“You should go,” he whispers. He doesn’t know where he finds these words, but he’s grateful for them nonetheless. “Andy said we’d be leaving in a couple hours, as soon as—”</p><p>“I know what Andy said.”</p><p>Her hands are on his shoulders now, sliding beneath his shirt, trying to push it off.</p><p>“Mon cœur,” he whispers, ducking his forehead down against hers. “What are you doing?”</p><p>She leans forward, pressing her chest against his. “What are <em> you </em>doing, calling me that?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” he whispers, throat swollen with tears. “I don’t know how to act around you when you’re like this.” He cups her face in his hands to hold her at bay, but she just leans into his touch, loving how easily he can hold all of her. “I know I shouldn’t open the door to you in the first place, but I can’t stop. I keep trying, but I don’t know how to say no to you—”</p><p>“You don’t have to say no.”</p><p>
  <em>"Nile."</em>
</p><p>“You don’t. We… We keep finding ourselves like this, don’t we?” When he opens his eyes, she’s smiling at him beneath the tears. “Remember Seoul? Nairobi? Guadalajara?”</p><p>His red eyes find hers. “You do realize you’re naming all the worst nights of my life, right?”</p><p>“Funny, they’re some of the best of mine.” She turns her head, pressing a kiss to one of his palms. “Maybe they mean something. Do you ever think about that?”</p><p>“Yeah, they mean we’re weak.”</p><p>“Or they mean we’re meant to be together, no matter what.”</p><p>He snorts. “You know who you sound like, right?”</p><p>“We tried,” she whispers. “We tried being apart and it didn’t work. I think maybe… If you want… We should try something else instead. We could tell the others, see where it takes us…”</p><p>He’s shaking his head before she’s even finished, but when he tries to pull away, she keeps him in place.</p><p>“What?” she whispers. “You don’t want them to know?”</p><p>“I don’t care if they know. It’s not about them.”</p><p>“Then—is it me?” The uncertainty is back in her voice, and he hates hearing it almost as much as he hates the confidence that leads them to these moments. “Don’t you want me still?”</p><p>“Mon Dieu, you can’t possibly be asking me that.”</p><p>“What’s it about then?”</p><p>“What’s it about? It’s about what I can handle and what I can’t. And you, saying all these things to me—I <em> can’t </em> handle this. You can’t be doing this. You can’t—can’t toy with me like this; it isn’t fair.”</p><p>“I’m not.” Her fingers clutch at his collar. “Sébastien, I swear I’m not. Please believe me, I—”</p><p>“Nothing’s changed,” he whispers. “The reasons why we ended it… I’m no different now than I was then, and I don’t think you are, either. We’ll have the same problems. The same disappointments.”</p><p>“Then we’ll figure out how to fix them, and if we can’t fix them, we’ll just learn to deal with them,” she replies matter-of-factly. “We have plenty of time for that, don’t we?”</p><p>He shuts his eyes, chin trembling. Gently, she smooths the thumb of her right hand against his forehead until the creases go away. She knows exorcising demons isn’t that simple, but she knows too that it’s helped clear his mind a bit.</p><p>“I’m not asking you to say yes right now,” she whispers, stroking her hands through his hair. It’s long again, longer than it was when they met. “I’m just asking you to think about it. To talk with me about it. Because clearly we’re—well, I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say we’re not okay on our own, you and me.” He lets out a shaky laugh at that, and she smiles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Just talk with me,” she whispers. “That’s all I’m asking for. Is that so hard?”</p><p>“I think so, yes. We haven’t been very good at talking, the last few decades.”</p><p>“We used to be good at it. We’ll get better again.”</p><p>He lets out a shuddering breath, and finally opens his eyes. They stand there for a long moment, just staring at one another.</p><p>“You have to promise me something,” he says at last.</p><p>“Anything.”</p><p>“If we do this, we can’t fall apart again. Okay? We can’t ruin it again, or I’m—I’m not recovering from this.”</p><p>“You say that as if it doesn’t apply to me too.” </p><p>“I mean it, Nile.”</p><p>“I do too. And we’ll work together, I promise. We’ll figure it out.”</p><p>His eyes search her face, but not finding the answer, he asks, “How can you be sure?”</p><p>“Because I love you.” A smile flickers on her lips. “Don’t you remember?”</p><p>“Didn’t know if that meant forever,” he mutters.</p><p>“Everything we do is for forever.”</p><p>“This too?” he asks, carefully tracing the curve of her bottom lip.</p><p>She nods, and lifts her chin to kiss him. “This too.”</p><p>
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  <p>
    <b>+1</b>
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</blockquote><p>They’re at Quynh’s favorite bar in Berlin, far too drunk for a casual Thursday in April, not that anyone cares. Some days, they like to act like mortals and drown themselves in alcohol all day simply for the pleasure of it. It’s nearing midnight, and Andy is in rare form, regaling them with stories that Nile, even to this day, isn’t sure are wholly true. She tries to take her cue from the others, but this evening it’s more difficult than usual. While Nicky is listening intently, hanging on Andy’s every word, Joe is rolling his eyes and arguing every other sentence. Quynh’s no help; even her smiles are unreadable.</p><p>Sébastien, for his part, is doing his best to follow along, making jokes here and there, but Nile knows his heart isn’t really in it. She can tell tonight is one of those nights when he’s so tired, he wants nothing more than to just curl up in bed with her. For sleep or sex, it doesn’t matter—just being beside one another is enough.</p><p>Ever since that night in Cairo, they have spent the last few years falling back into their familiar rhythm together. They took things slowly at first, with careful steps forward and just as careful steps back. They started seeing each other again, on the days off between missions. When they got a long break, she spent the weeks off with him at his place in Strasbourg. And then, when she didn’t feel like leaving once the work resumed, she simply stayed.</p><p>Things are not always easy, but neither do they expect them to be. True to their word, they do talk more. Sometimes they fight more than they talk, but they both know it’s better than letting things fester in silence the way they had before. And they always make up, even after the worst arguments, and eventually that’s how they know—this is it.</p><p>The timing of the revelation isn’t exactly perfect. After Cairo, they agreed that once they were certain of themselves, they would tell the others. And they were going to—until Andy reminded them that Nicky and Joe’s anniversary was coming up. It was a big one, and given how they liked to celebrate even the little ones, Nile and Sébastien hadn’t wanted to overshadow that.</p><p>Come the end of the year, they’ve decided, they will sit down and tell the others. That gives them plenty of time to plan—to pick the right words, the right time, and the right story. But that is a ways away. For now, they are enjoying the last few months of secrecy, and all the old thrills it can still, after all this time, bring to life.</p><p>After Andy finally finishes her story, Quynh rises to her feet, offering to get the next round. Out of the five of them, Sébastien is the only one who begs off. Beneath the torrent of the others’ boos, he smiles and holds up his hands in surrender.</p><p>“I don’t know what to tell you,” he says as Quynh leaves to get the others’ drinks. “I’m exhausted. You old people party too much for me.”</p><p>As the others lob insults mixed with goodbyes, Nile squeezes his thigh under the table, a silent promise that she’ll join him soon. But she’s sure to keep her voice casual and her gaze clear when she glances over and says, “Night, Book.”</p><p>“Night, Nie,” he yawns, low and sleepy.</p><p>And then, before she even has time to blink, he’s kissed her goodnight on the mouth and gotten to his feet to leave.</p><p>He makes it only two steps before he stops in his tracks, the realization of what he’s done instantly jolting him awake. But he does not look back or acknowledge the slip. He just keeps walking, faster than before and straight for the door, and Nile can’t even fault him for the abandonment. Had their positions been reversed, she would’ve done the same exact thing and she would not have apologized for it.</p><p>She can feel her lips burning and she opens her mouth to explain<em>—How can she possibly explain?</em><em>—</em>but before she can manage a single syllable, Andy and Joe are swearing and pulling out their wallets.</p><p>“Bastard,” Joe snarls, counting euros by the hundreds. One, two, three, four, five, six… “That rat fucking <em> bastard!</em> I <em> knew </em> something was going on—I asked him to his goddamn face after that Monaco job and what did he say? ‘No, no, no. Not Nile. Never <em> Nile.</em> Don’t you think I would tell you if it was Nile?’ What a lying sack of shit.”</p><p>“Should’ve left him to die in Russia,” Andy growls, tossing her now-empty wallet onto the pile of cash and reaching back into another pocket for more bills. “And you—” She levels a dangerous finger at Nile. “—I should have left <em> you </em>in Afghanistan for all the good you’ve done me.”</p><p>Nicky is the only one who smiles at her. He gathers the thousands of euros that are now his with both hands, scooping them towards his chest as if this were a winning poker table and he a high roller. “Many, many happy returns on your relationship, dear Nile. I hope it continues to bring you as much joy in the future as it has brought me tonight.”</p><p>Nile opens her mouth to reply, but finds as she looks from one sullen face to the other, and Nicky beaming between the two, that she has nothing to say. Quynh returns just then with the next round, frowning.</p><p>“Is something wrong? Why does Nile look like a ghost has visited her? And why is there so much money on the table?”</p><p>Nicky, blessedly, saves her from having to explain. Nile can feel both Andy and Joe glaring at her, and so she keeps her focus on her beer until Nicky’s finished, hoping with every swallow that it’ll dampen the flush in her cheeks.</p><p>“You do not look very surprised,” Nicky comments after he finishes explaining, though Nile suspects that is just Quynh’s face. She isn’t one to show much emotion.</p><p>“Oh, well, that’s because I am not,” Quynh replies, licking the foam from her top lip.</p><p>“You’re not?” Joe snorts. “Oh, okay, sure. So you’re just going to come in here at the eleventh hour and act your usual superior self, say you saw this coming a mile away—”</p><p>“I did not see it coming, I just knew. It was why I did not participate in your wager. It did not seem fair.”</p><p>“Wait.” Nile blinks, frowning at her choice of words. Qunyh has never looked at her twice. Never made any of the leading comments about Booker that Joe and Andy have made over the years that have always made her so nervous. “What do you mean, <em>you</em> <em>knew?</em> Knew what? And since when?”</p><p>“Your bicentennial,” Quynh answers with a smile. “I went to get a glass of water before bed, and nearly walked in on you and Booker kissing in the kitchen.” At the look of bewilderment on Nile’s face, Quynh’s smile widens. “It seemed rather… <em> new,</em> so I did not want to interrupt the moment. Never did get my water, though. You two were in there for a while.”</p><p>“I…”</p><p>Nile is saved from trying to speak because Andy appears to be having a full meltdown across the table.</p><p>“I cannot <em> believe </em>you.”</p><p>“What?” Quynh is as placid as a lake in the face of Andy’s coming eruption. “What can you not believe? I accidentally walked in on a private moment, that’s all. Why are you—”</p><p>“You have known about them <em> for centuries,"</em> Andy screams, jumping to her feet, “and you <em> didn’t think to tell me?!"</em> The bar’s other patrons are starting to stare, but for once she doesn’t seem to care about mortals knowing the extent of their longevity. “Do you know how much I had riding on this, Quynh? What I gave to Nicky just now wasn’t even a <em> third </em>of it—”</p><p>“Calm yourself,” Quynh orders. “You are making a scene. And we have more money, my heart.”</p><p><em>"I bet him more than money, Quynh!"</em> </p><p>Quynh levels her with a stern stare. “And whose fault is that, Andromache?”</p><p>“He never wins bets!” Andy is shrieking now, eyes wild, and Nile has to put a hand over her eyes in embarrassment. If Quynh weren’t a regular at the bar, she’s sure they would’ve been thrown out by now. “Nicky hasn’t won a bet in <em>eight hundred</em> <em>years—</em>”</p><p>“Boss,” Joe clears his throat, casting a pointed eye at their onlookers. “You might want to—”</p><p>“Oh, shut up, Joe.”</p><p>“Hey, I lost money here too!”</p><p>“And why do you two think I kept what I knew to myself, hm?” Quynh looks between the two of them. She stares hard at Andy until she finally sits back down. “I <em> knew </em>you would react like this, Andromache. I knew you would ruin things for them.”</p><p><em>"I</em> haven’t ruined anything! Book dug his own damn grave, just like he always does!”</p><p>“No argument here,” Nile mutters into her drink, and Nicky catches her eye with a grin.</p><p>“Will you two be having words later?”</p><p>“Oh, I think they’ll be doing a lot more than that,” Andy mutters, flinching when Quynh pinches her arm. “Ow. That hurt.”</p><p>“We agreed to tell you guys,” Nile says quietly, looking apologetically around the table. “I swear we did. We were just waiting until the end of the year.” She glances anxiously at Joe, who still looks furious. “We didn’t want to take away from your anniversary.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s very kind of you, Nile,” Nicky replies with a smile. “Very nice of you to think of us.”</p><p>When Joe says nothing, Nicky nudges him.</p><p>“It was very <em> kind </em> of them, wasn’t it, Joe? Don’t you agree? <em> Yusuf."</em></p><p>Instead of answering, Joe shoves himself to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.</p><p>“I need to talk to Book,” he announces.</p><p>“Tomorrow,” Nicky soothes, placing a hand on his arm. “You can talk to him tomorrow. For now, let’s just—”</p><p>“No, no, no, <em> now.</em> He doesn’t get to lie to me for—for—I don’t even <em> know </em> how long!” He turns to Nile. “Give me the key code to your hotel room.”</p><p>“What?” She jumps at the demand, caught off guard. “Why? What do you need <em> my </em> code for?”</p><p>“Because I need to talk to Book. And I’m sure I’ll find him having a panic attack in your room right about now, won’t I? So give it.”</p><p>“Joe, I’m not—”</p><p>“Give me the code, Nile. Give it to me or otherwise I’ll just break down the door; you know I will. Your decision.”</p><p>Nile bites her lip, searching the other faces for sympathy. But of course there’s none to be found. Even Nicky has given up his husband for a lost cause, and returned to his wine. Nile closes her eyes, and after a moment’s deliberation, she recites the string of numbers.</p><p>“Thanks,” Joe says tersely, and then he’s gone, out the door even faster than Booker.</p><p>Nile watches him go with a defeated sigh, hoping and praying that Sébastien did the smart thing and just headed out into the city to walk it off even though she knows in her heart that Joe’s assumption was the right one. She buries her face in her hands, groaning aloud in frustration.</p><p>“He’s never going to forgive me for this.”</p><p>Across the table, Quynh just laughs. “Oh, something tells me he’ll find a way.”</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I so hope you enjoyed this! You may have noticed that certain sections got away from me and that’s because, well, I have fallen completely head over heels for these two and I don’t know what to do with myself. If you want to scream with me about them, feel free to do so below, or you can find me on <a href="https://takethisnight-wrapitaroundme.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>. :) Thank you for reading!! Nothing makes me happier than seeing a comment notification, so I will love you forever if you’re able to leave one. &lt;3</p><p>PS—I’ve got my favorite section, but I’d love to hear yours. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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